A Change Is Gonna Come
by CardioQueen
Summary: Essentially, my season 4 premiere nearly canon from the season 3 finale with the exception that Cristina and Burke get married. Thanks for reading. This story is complete.


Sun filters through the sheer curtains of their exquisite suite and Cristina groans slightly, raising her forearm to cover her eyes though she was comfortable just the way she was.

Fucking Hawaii.

Fucking sunshine.

The sensation of a fingertip tracing her exposed breast, teasing her nipple gently stirs her just enough to keep her from falling back asleep. Though her body is deliciously sore, she knows that she'll never be able to resist him. Especially if _that's_ how he's going to wake her up.

"Haven't you had enough?" she mumbles, pretending to be annoyed.

His voice is a deep timbre, arousal mixed with the remnants of a deep and comfortable sleep, "I can never get enough of you."

Cristina raises her arm from her eyes and looks over at him, sees the warmth (and maybe a little bit of lust) there and she can't hide a slight smile, "How long is this honeymoon thing supposed to last? Because I kind of like it."

Burke chuckles softly and pulls her body against his, shifting so she's half underneath him, "I intend to make it last for a very," he pauses to kiss her lips gently then moves to her jaw, "very," his lips slide down to her neck and he kisses the flesh there, his erection already pressing into her thigh, "very long time."

For two seconds she wonders how she could have ever thought that a honeymoon was a stupid idea but then his fingers slip inside her and she quits thinking all together and makes love to her husband for the tenth time in twenty-four hours.

"So are you going to tell me why you aren't talking to me or am I just supposed to guess?"

Meredith glances up from her tequila to the man next to her and then looks back down at her drink. She doesn't care to answer him because she doesn't really have an answer. Well, she does but it would take all night and she doesn't feel like wasting the breath. It starts somewhere between him insinuating that she's a whore (and maybe she is sometimes but that's not exactly something you point out to the woman you supposedly love) and saying that he can't breathe for her (because _hello_ her life is sunshine and roses and there's no reason why she'd want to die).

Derek takes a seat next to her, unwelcome, and orders a single malt scotch. He flashes a smug grin at Joe whenever the man tries to silently relay to Derek that now is not the time to mess with her. Derek knows Meredith's limits and he knows that he can get through to her. She's simply being Meredith.

They've had issues before, this is an issue now and they'll move past it.

They can move past her issues again.

Meredith shifts uncomfortably and takes another drink of her tequila. She's been drinking it for so long that it doesn't even burn anymore. Really, it's one of the only things in her life that feels good. Everything is fucked up now and her people are fucked up even more.

"Richard made me Chief," Derek announces ceremoniously, nearly to the entire bar "he made me Chief right before the wedding."

The admission draws only a slight amount of interest from Meredith but she still doesn't respond to him. Who cares if he's Chief? That only makes their relationship, make that non-relationship, that much more of an inconvenience.

"I turned it down," he finally adds, silently irritated by the fact that she won't answer him.

This revelation is almost enough to make her speak but Alex shows up in the nick of time, making things more awkward and saving her at the same time.

"You ready to get out of here?" he asks, eyes shifting to Shepherd for only a minute before looking back at Meredith, "Or should I leave you two alone?"

There's a hint of bitterness in his tone that's undeniable. They're not a thing but they're both hurting and they have an arrangement, one that Shepherd doesn't fit into.

"Leave who alone?" Meredith asks, tossing down some money for her drinks. She stands up without even casting a sideways glance at Derek and brushes her hand against Alex's, "Take me home, Alex," she says, trying to leak a little bit of suggestion into her voice to make painfully clear to Derek that they are done.

It works.

"You're sure this is what you want?" Addison asks, a certain sadness settling into her heart as she watches Richard remove the last of his framed credentials from the wall.

"This is what I want," Richard confirms, "Addison, I'm tired. I have a wife who has given me another chance that I don't deserve, a life that I haven't lived except in the four walls of this hospital. It used to be enough for me, this place. It used to be the only thing I looked forward to."

"And now?" she asks, already knowing the answer.

"Now it's not enough and I think you're going to find that out soon enough," he says, lifting his box from the desk that used to be his.

Addison looks at the office, a blank canvas to make her own and she starts by setting a small placard down in the center of the desk that reads 'A. Montgomery MD FACS, Chief of Surgery'. The sadness that she feels when Richard walks out of the office is fleeting because for the first time in a long time, she feels something else.

She feels hope.

An array of colors explode on the bed in front of him and George looks up from his People magazine, first at the cards and then at his wife, "What's this?"

"The cards. I got them back from Yang before she went off on her honeymoon," Callie explains, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"I don't need them."

Callie cocks her head to the side and looks at George, half in doubt and half in disgust before plucking the magazine from his hands, "George O'Malley, you are going to quit sulking around this hotel room and start studying for your intern exam. It was a onetime thing. You've had a hard year and things have sucked and you-"

"Don't want to talk about it right now," he interrupts in a curt voice and snatches his magazine back.

There are a million other things on his mind besides the intern exam he couldn't pass. There are things like his dead father and his infidelity and the fact that he thinks he has feelings for Izzie lingering all at the forefront of his mind. There's no room for pH imbalances and anatomy right now.

His life is falling apart and the intern exam was just the icing on the cake.

Cristina's fingertip traces lazily against the titanium band that adorns his ring finger now. It's weird but it seems like it's always been there now.

Burke's hand turns beneath hers and their fingers lace. He kisses her temple and goes back to reading through the medical journal in his lap. Cristina rests her head against his shoulder, sufficiently worn out from his voracity from the past couple of days. Her eyes start to drift closed , the rhythm of his breathing lulling her until her cell phone rings, disrupting the perfection of the moment.

"It's mine," Cristina groans gently and pulls herself away from him to answer the phone. She sees Meredith's name across the display before she flips it open and walks out onto the balcony of their room.

"This had better be important," she says into the phone, eyeing the dark gray skies providing a brilliant contrast against the aquamarine waves crashing against the shore.

"It's always important," Meredith retorts, pulling a sheet over her chest after Alex leaves the room, "what are you doing?"

"Nothing. And it was nice until you called," Cristina mutters, leaning against the railing.

"So," Meredith starts and there's an awkward pause, "how's Hawaii?"

"Good."

"Things are good?"

Cristina rolls her eyes. She knows exactly what Meredith is after, "Yes, things are good. Things are fine. Why does it matter to you?"

"Well, I'm not sure if you remember but he tried to leave you. Like, right before you got married. Good and fine aren't exactly words I would associate with that kind of a situation," Meredith says in a low voice, as if somehow Burke can hear her on the phone.

"It's not a thing. It's fine," Cristina repeats. She's actively trying to avoid that conversation with Burke, "he said things and it was nerves and he didn't mean them. Whatever."

"Cristina," Meredith chides but she can't finish before Cristina cuts her off.

"Look, right now, I'm happy. We're in Hawaii, I'm having more sex than you and we're good. Just because you dumped Shepherd doesn't mean you have to try to make me miserable too," Cristina mutters into the phone. She doesn't bother with the formality of saying goodbye before snapping the phone shut.

Cristina drops the phone on the lounge before walking back into the suite. It's starting to rain outside and the thought that her phone is going to be destroyed doesn't stop her from what she's about to do.

Leaning over seductively, she pulls the medical journal from Burke's hands and kisses him, straddles his lap. "I think you've had enough of a break," she murmurs into his mouth, her fingers searching for the band on his finger again.

Though he's kissing her as if there's no tomorrow, it's the thought of what happened before her wedding, the thought that she almost lost him that leaves her breathless.

The batter is too lumpy.

At first lemon and raspberry muffins sounded good to her, bitter and tart but with some sort of underlying sweetness that people can't deny, but now looking at the batter she wonders if it will turn out the way she wants it to.

These days it seems like nothing ever turns out the way she wants it to.

Alex enters the kitchen and she glances up, her gaze turns to stone and she looks back down, "Sounds like you and Meredith had a pretty good time last night."

"Shut up," Alex sneers, reaching for some still-cooling blueberry muffins from the cooling rack, "what's with all the baking? Did you kill another patient?"

"At least mine died. Yours ran away," Izzie shoots back at him, "quit acting like you're any better than me Alex. It's painfully clear that you were all over _Rebecca_. This makes us equal."

"It doesn't make us equal," he speaks with a full mouth, bits of muffin flying out when he replies, "because I didn't kill her."

"So what? You decide to sleep with Meredith because-"

"Is it any of your business?" Alex asks her, grabbing another muffin, "It's not like she's married or anything."

Izzie almost defends herself and then she realizes that nobody knows about what happened with George and she's not about to tell Alex. She presses her lips firmly together and looks back down into the batter in her bowl. It's still too lumpy, "Why are you even up this early?" she finally asks, trying to take her mind off of everything that's not perfect about her life right now.

"I'm going to the hospital, this vacation thing is lame."

Alex walks away, muffin in hand and he doesn't try to figure out why she's baking because he simply doesn't care anymore. To Alex, Izzie is just another one of the bitches that fucked everything up. Whatever she's dealing with, she deserves it and more.

"Something is up with George."

Addison peers over red rimmed reading glasses at the woman before her and then back down at her laptop, "I imagine that not passing the intern exam would be fairly distressing," Addison remarks idly, "but he'll do better the second time around."

"No," Callie says, sitting down in the chair before Addison's new desk, "it's something else. I don't know what but it's something else."

With a heavy sigh, Addison closes the laptop and pulls off her glasses, devoting a small amount of free time that she doesn't have to her friend, "Go on."

"I don't know," the other woman says, "he usually…things have been different since his dad died, I know that. But there's something else going on. He's always with Stevens and now they're acting strange around each other and I just…"

"You think there's something going on between the two of them?" Addison asks, getting straight to the point. She knows from experience the best way to get around these situations is to just rip the band-aid off.

"What?" Callie scoffs, "No. _No_, George wouldn't ever do," she stops herself and then shakes her head, "no, George wouldn't do that to me. I think that maybe Stevens is-"

"Have you asked him?"

"No."

"That's where I would start," Addison concludes, opening her laptop again and reaching for her glasses.

"And what if I'm wrong? What if there's nothing going on and I make things worse with George than they already are?" Callie wonders aloud.

"Then I guess things are worse than they are. But if you don't ask and there is something going on, isn't that about as bad as it can get?"

Callie remains still in the chair, taking in Addison's words.

That's a question that she doesn't want to answer.

Mark sits at the bar, perusing the crowd of people. He's going through a dry spell right now and he doesn't necessarily know how he feels about it. He knows that he hates Alex Karev and that he'll never let him on plastics again. He knows that Addison will never understand exactly how much he gave up to come and be with her.

There's a lot that Mark Sloan understands.

A swig of beer makes him realize that he'd rather go back to being blissfully ignorant.

The nickname manwhore didn't come easily and those days were a hell of a lot easier than the mess he's found himself in now. He hates Seattle; it always rains and the people are too granola for him. He spends more time flying in patients who care about their appearance than he does getting consults for breast jobs and rhinoplasties.

People here are too goddamn accepting of their differences.

Addison isn't going to come around and he finds himself wondering what the hell his keeping him here.

"Quit moping. It makes you look older than you already are," a familiar voice says from beside him.

Mark turns to see Derek settling on the bar stool next to him and he sneers, "I'm brooding. Brooding is attractive to women."

"You're not brooding, you're pouting. Why are you pouting?" Derek asks, "It wouldn't have anything to do with the fact that Alex Karev slept with my wife when you were actively pursuing her does it?"

There's a hint of amusement to Derek's tone that makes Mark want to punch him but he's too busy _brooding_ to waste the effort, "Mock all you want but from what I've seen, Alex Karev is busy sleeping with your dirty mistress." Mark says, a smug grin breaking the pitiful expression on his face for only a moment.

"It's a phase," Derek says matter-of-factly, "she's having some issues and once she works through them things will be fine again. You'll see."

Mark looks at Derek with a cocked eyebrow, "Have you ever thought that maybe the issue isn't the women that you're with but you?"

"Excuse me?"

"Hey, don't shoot the messenger. I'm just saying, if you haven't noticed Addison didn't exactly decide to sleep with me because she's promiscuous. You were never around. And Meredith- well, she may be a little promiscuous but pointing those things out aren't exactly smooth moves. Maybe the problem isn't her, maybe the problem is you," Mark explains, a slight slur becoming evident in his voice.

"You're drunk and you don't know what you're talking about."

"I always know what I'm talking about."

Derek looks in the direction of Alex and Meredith and then down into his empty glass.

The issues are most definitely not his.

The sheet gives beneath her fingers and she thinks if she hadn't have spent so much fucking money on them that her nails would shred right through them. She bites into the pillow as Alex hammers into her from behind, trying to be silent because God forbid Izzie realizes what they're doing.

She's already tired of the lectures.

"You gonna come or what?" Alex asks through gritted teeth, slamming harder into her, actively trying not to come.

Meredith hasn't ever had to fake it before but she does for his benefit just because she's not there right now. She can't get her mind off of everything that's going on. Alex's hips snap against her ass several times harshly and she thinks she may orgasm anyway but then he erupts inside her and the feeling fades just as quickly.

It doesn't matter to her.

The weight on the bed shifts as Alex climbs off of it, rolling the condom off his now flaccid length.

"Cristina won't talk to me," Meredith announces into the dark, as if somehow Alex cares.

Alex drops the condom into the miniature trashcan next to her bed and searches through the dimly lit room for his boxers, "What?"

"Cristina. She won't talk to me," she repeats, "at all."

"Isn't she on some stupid honeymoon?"

"Didn't he try to leave her right before they said 'I do'?" Meredith questions, "It's not exactly the best start to happily ever after. And it's Cristina. Cristina wouldn't just let that kind of stuff happen and then ignore it. And now she won't talk to me about it."

Alex starts to wonder if he's gotten in too deep with this relationship. It was supposed to be only sex and now she's distracted and discussing her problems and it's only going to be a matter of time before she starts talking about relationships and crap.

It's the exact opposite of what Alex wants.

"So?"

Meredith sits up, her palm slamming into the bed, "Because that's not Cristina. Because she's supposed to talk to me about these things and she just ignores my phone calls and says that everything is fine and I know it isn't."

"Look," Alex says, pulling on his shirt, "I get that you have girl problems and stuff but-" telling her that he doesn't want to deal with them seems to harsh right now, "I have to go."

The message is loud and clear to Meredith and she grabs her shirt from the floor and slips it on, "Fine. Go. Whatever."

Alex takes the opportunity a little too quickly, leaving her alone in a dark room to wonder what the hell has happened to her life and if anything is ever going to be normal again.

Cristina buries her toes in the wet sand, the sun fading into the horizon. The salty sea air whips her hair around her face and she's given up trying to fight it. Meredith's words keep echoing through her head and it's not as if she hasn't thought about it but this is their honeymoon. It's endless sex and him saying things that normally makes her cringe but somehow, when they're in a world that exists outside of Seattle, it's not that bad.

She didn't want the wedding, she wanted the marriage.

It isn't like things are any different, being married. It's just a piece of paper. They're still Cristina and Burke, they're still surgeons and nothing is going to change.

Except she wonders if he wants everything to change.

Rational thinking tells her that it was nerves, just jitters. She wasn't coming down the aisle and he was trying to make it easier for her to walk away because he figured she felt the same. Rational thinking tells her that he married her and he knew exactly who he was marrying when he said I do, when he got to stomp on the stupid glass and please his inner four year old.

At the very least he knows that she loves him.

The sound of sand muffles his footsteps behind her and she's not alerted to his presence until he's sitting in the sand behind her and his arms are wrapped around her. An eerie feeling of emptiness washes over her for only a moment and then subsides, just like the waves.

"What are you thinking about?" he asks, dropping a kiss against her shoulder.

"Who says I'm thinking?" she counters, turning to glance at him with solemn eyes.

"Nobody has to say it. I know you," his voice is soothing and it quiets the doubts lingering in her mind. Or it's maybe that she lets him soothe her. Maybe it's that she doesn't want to think about it anymore.

She can think about it when they get home.

"Do you?"

Burke kisses her tenderly and pulls her a little closer, "I do, and I love _you_."

He emphasizes the last word, hoping that she gets it. This is his way of apologizing for what happened before. He's wanted to bring it up but he can't. Not here. Things for the most part seem good, they seem happy. _She _seems happy and he doesn't want to ruin that. At some point it will blow up, there will be some sort of chain reaction that leads to the deconstruction of the perfect escape they've built.

Just not right now.

"_Chief_ Montgomery," Mark grins, his eyes scanning her perfect legs, "to what do I owe the pleasure?"

"First you can stop staring at my legs," Addison answers without even looking up at him, "and second you can tell me about this craniofacial reconstruction that you're flying in from Georgia on the hospital's dollar."

"The hospital's dollar won't matter with the publicity that it pulls in, so why does it matter?"

"Because, Mark," Addison sighs, already overwhelmed with how much the powers that be pushes the budget, "there's a line and I have to draw it somewhere. You want to bring this patient in and do a groundbreaking pro bono surgery and you want the hospital to pay for transportation as well? I can't justify that. Especially when your department, while thriving by Seattle standards, is not enough to justify that kind of demand amongst cardio and neuro."

"So you're telling me that I have to call this woman who was _raped_ and _beaten_, this woman who lives in the projects and on welfare that I can't fly her out her and fix her face? That I can't give her new opportunity to work and move on with her life from what happened to her because Burke and Derek generate more money than I do?" Mark questions, his voice turning from playful to anger.

"I have no control over this, Mark. It's not my call. I have to control the budget or it's my ass. I don't want to tell you no but I have to tell you no," she says, softening her voice as if it's somehow going to lighten the blow. She doesn't want to tell him no but overstepping boundaries in the first weeks of her tenure is something that Addison isn't willing to risk yet, "can't you obtain privileges there? Fly down there and do the reconstruction?"

"And give another hospital the publicity?" he scoffs, "Gladly."

"Mark, don't be like this."

"Like what, Addison? Pissed off because you've already turned into just another paper pushing, bureaucratic bitch that thinks my craft is a joke?"

Addison's mouth falls open and while she's searching for a response to his statement, he disappears from her office and down the hallway.

The hope that she felt when she took residence in her office is quickly fading.

Meredith unceremoniously drops onto the end of the couch and reaches over into Izzie's bowl of popcorn, "What are we watching?"

"I don't know. I'm not watching it. I'm just…staring," Izzie mumbles, tossing the remote control in Meredith's direction.

"Why are you staring?"

Izzie shakes her head, "It's a thing, one of those things that I want to talk about and want to discuss but I can't. Not because I don't trust you but because saying it out loud makes me a really, _really_ bad person and I know that I'm not that kind of a person. Things just happened and people do the wrong things in spite of the right things and-"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Meredith interrupts, "slow down. What on earth are you talking about Izzie?"

"I already told you that I can't tell you!" 

"Except that you're trying to tell me in different words, which means that you're going to end up telling me and the only thing I'll have to do is sit here."

Izzie laughs, just a chuckle before it turns into full blown laughter, "I can't believe how stupid it is. How stupid I am. Because I'm not this kind of person, Mer, I'm not, but he was there and we were drunk and now he's-"

Meredith knows that reasoning all too well, "Who did you sleep with?"

The answer she expects to hear is Alex, which shouldn't be a thing with her because they're clearly not anything- she can't even talk to him about Cristina, who is still ignoring her phone calls even though she's supposed to be home tomorrow- but there's a hint of jealous anyway, which she doesn't expect.

She also doesn't expect the feeling of relief when Izzie's laughter suddenly falls quiet and she mumbles George's name.

Callie walks into the hotel room that has become their home, trying to keep calm. She loves George, she does and she has for a long time but she feels like the man sprawled out across the bed isn't the man she loves. He's turned into somebody that she doesn't recognize and she doesn't know how to bring him out of it.

Sometimes she thinks that she may not want to.

Everything between them happened so quickly. She pushed and he ran and then she ran and he pushed and then all the sudden they were getting married at some stupid place in Vegas and it was all rushed. It was rushed and she knows that she wants so much more out of life and out of a marriage.

Callie just can't be sure that she's going to get it with George.

"I talked to Addison today," she announces, trying to tear his attention away from the ceiling and whatever it is that he's thinking about.

So much for a 'how was your day?' or any sign that he realizes that she still exists.

"You didn't talk to her yesterday?" George asks, unmoving.

"She's going to let you take your intern exam again. You don't have to repeat your intern year," Callie says, trying to be more enthusiastic about it than she feels.

This gets George's attention and he sits up to look at her, "Seriously?"

"Seriously," Callie replies, smiling at the fact that he finally moved. Maybe he does care about something.

"When?"

"I don't know. She said that you'd have to schedule it with her," Callie pauses and leans over to kiss him, "things will be okay?"

George looks at Callie and he wants to be able to tell her yes but he doesn't know anymore, "Where are the cards?" is his only response.

Cristina sits on the corner of their bed, watching as Burke meticulously puts away the last of the laundry left over from their honeymoon. If she wasn't so preoccupied with her thoughts, she'd be thinking to herself that he was a good wife. Instead she's obsessing over everything that she doesn't want to.

"Where would you have gone?" she finally asks him.

Burke looks up at her and wants to pretend that he doesn't understand what she's talking about but he understands her; he always has. Pretending that he didn't, especially now, is not in his or her best interests. His answer is honest, "I couldn't have stayed."

"But where would you have gone?" Cristina presses.

"I don't know."

Her finger traces idly against the burgundy bedspread as she tries to process what she's feeling. Cristina has always hated acknowledging her feelings. It makes her weak, inefficient. It makes her doubt the decisions she's made, "Would you have come back?"

His gaze leaves hers and he tries to focus on what he was doing before. The truth is an answer he cannot speak out loud so easily. The idea of it makes him sick; Burke knows that he could have done it. He was minutes away from doing it. The feeling associated with that though, the crushing that spreads through his chest thinking about moving on with his life and leaving her behind as if it were something so easily done, it kills him.

He cannot begin to imagine what it would have done to her.

"Answer me, Burke," her voice trembles slightly. She already knows the answer but for some masochistic reason she wants to hear it out loud.

When she does, it breaks her.

"No," the word is so hollow but so heavy at the same time. One syllable is all it takes to shatter the façade of the past two weeks they've spent together.

Cristina stands up and walks out of the bedroom. She pauses at the front door to grab her bag and slip on her boots. Without any indication as to where she's going or what she's doing, she's gone.

Burke doesn't try to stop her.

"I'm surprised you even bothered to come back from Hawaii," Meredith announces from behind her, voice full of sarcasm, "I figured that you were oh so happy there that you'd decided just to ignore everybody who's important and leave it all behind."

Cristina bites her tongue to keep from saying anything and pulls on her scrub top. She's not in the mood to deal with Meredith's dramatics. She has enough on her mind as it is and if Meredith doesn't get that, she's not going to tell her.

"You know, I really could have used you. Derek is being all…Derek and there's this thing going on with, well, who it is isn't important, the important part is that I was trying to talk to you and you weren't there," Meredith continues, "I really could have used you."

Disbelief painted across her expression, Cristina looks up at Meredith, "I'm sorry I was on my whatever," the word honeymoon is too hard for her right now, it was just a two week vacation from reality, "next time I'll try to schedule my life around your drama."

Cristina slams the door shut to her locker and starts to walk away.

"Hey!" Meredith calls after her, "I don't know why you're mad at me. I'm not the one who ignored you. In case you don't remember, it was the other way around."

"Then by all means," Cristina says, slipping her stethoscope around her neck, "get even. Ignore me. _Please_."

Meredith glares at space formerly occupied by Cristina and wonders exactly what crawled up her ass.

It isn't until five minutes after Cristina is gone that Meredith finally realizes what it is.

George taps his pencil nervously considering the treatments of hyperkalemia but he just can't focus. He can't forget the things he's done, the mistakes he's made and if (or when) he's going to make another one. The test proctor clears her throat and he glances upwards before trying to draw his attention back to the test.

All of the answers are right in their own way but he finally settles on the least invasive method of treatment first.

It's time that he stopped jumping straight to drastic measures to solve his problems.

Cristina pushes the salad on her plate around with her fork, irritated by nothing and everything all at once. Of course she's on Burke's service today and of course he's giving her those looks but being completely civil.

Of _course_ he knows that he screwed up.

Burke can't make it easy on her and act like he did absolutely nothing wrong. Of course not.

She hasn't made any decisions, she doesn't know what she wants to do, except that she does. She just doesn't want to compromise any part of herself for him. She told him. She explained to him that she was a surgeon and they could hire a wife and everything he said to her before the wedding seems to indicate that he didn't hear a single word of it.

A tray drops in front of her and she looks up at Alex.

"I hate having interns. There's no way I can spend the next 42 hours with them without killing at least one," he mutters, dropping into his seat, "I think they gave me the most stupid ones on purpose."

"That's funny," Cristina answers, "I would think that they'd give you the smartest ones since they're not going to learn anything from you."

Alex glares at her, "They were going to but after they gave them all to you, they had nothing left."

"I'm pretty sure," Izzie interrupts, sitting down, "that my interns are worse than all of yours. They never shut up. And they never stop asking questions."

Cristina and Alex share a look before looking back at Izzie.

"I'm surprised that they gave you interns at all. What's in your lesson plans? How to cut LVAD wires 101?" Cristina quips, pushing her food away untouched.

Izzie rolls her eyes and looks at Alex who is laughing, "Shut up."

"No way, dude. She has a point. You are the last person that should have interns. Even O'Malley-"

"Is a second year resident who has his own interns," George announces with an excited smile at the end of the table, "Which means that you each have to cough up one of your interns."

"Oh. Oh, darn," Cristina mutters, "take one. I don't care. They're all the same."

"What she said," Alex adds.

Meredith joins the group, hesitation evident in her body language. She takes a seat next to Cristina and leans over slightly, "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Cristina says, not really wanting to make a thing out of it in front of everybody.

"Of course she's fine. She's all married and whatever," Izzie says, "which makes absolutely no sense in the real world because we all know that Cristina doesn't have a heart and how she can actually be somebody's wife is-"

"Izzie!" Meredith glares at Izzie, doing a poor job of relaying the fact that Izzie saw what happened and that she knows that Cristina has to somehow be affected, except it's Izzie and unless somebody spells it out for her, she'll never understand it.

"It's _fine_," Cristina repeats, standing up and taking her tray with her, "I have a surgery. Take my intern, George. Take them all. I don't care."

Meredith waits until after Cristina leaves and then looks at Izzie incredulously, "You were _there_."

"I was where?" Izzie asks, plucking her apple from her tray, "What are you talking about?"

"Nothing," Meredith sighs. She's not going to bring it up in front of everybody else. If she did, Cristina would be _really_ pissed off at her. She turns her attention to George instead, "So you passed the exam? That's good. Congratulations, George."

"Thanks," George answers, a bit of tuna salad hanging from the corner of his lip, "I'm glad it's over."

The look he shares with Izzie is tell-tale only to the people at the table who know. Izzie looks back helplessly and her head shakes slightly but no words come out of her mouth. Meredith catches the exchange and then looks at George.

Meredith decides then that she knows way too much for her own good.

New York City is in his blood. He had a thriving practice in New York, a near fanatical following of patients who referred celebrities and society alike who wished to look their very best. It would be so easy to return to all of that if only Addison were there with him.

Addison won't be with him, however, and to return to New York would be like going home to an empty house.

Once upon a time, Mark thought that he would be able to change her mind, that he would be able to convince her that he loved her and that they were meant to be.

Now he knows he was wrong.

Seattle isn't home, New York can't be and now he's left with a dilemma.

The website for St. Ambrose Medical Center in Los Angeles populates on the screen of his laptop and he begins to research the next place he'll call home.

Derek stands in the doorway of Addison's office, angry and resentful, yet proud at the same time. This could have been his office and he gave it all up for Meredith.

A sacrifice that, thus far, has been fruitless.

"Dr. Shepherd is there something I can help you with or are you just going to gawk?" Addison asks, feeling as if she's always buried under some sort of file. She never has time for the OR these days, let alone any semblance of human interaction.

It will calm down one day, or at least that's what she keeps telling herself.

"I just hadn't had the opportunity to see our new Chief in action," Derek answers, casually walking into the office, "I wanted to see it for myself."

"Well, you're seeing it."

"Is it everything you wanted it to be?"

"You would have known. Webber offered it to you first," Addison answers, looking up at him, "regretting the choice of giving it up now?"

"Perhaps a little. When's the last time you saw the inside of an OR?" Derek asks with a smug grin, still standing over her.

"Very funny, Derek," Addison says dryly, "why are you really here?"

"Honestly?"

She takes off her glasses and tosses them on the desk, "I hear it's the best policy. It also wastes less of my time."

"I have no idea," he finally exhales, "things feel off. Meredith won't talk to me, Burke has been different since he came back from the honeymoon and the interns are underwhelming this round."

"There are a few interns that I wouldn't have selected myself but that's Richard's doing and I can't exactly kick them out of the program because of a change in leadership," she agrees, "I'm sure that Preston is just tired and I'm not going to give you advice on your relationship with Meredith Grey."

"There is no relationship," Derek admits, "not anymore."

"That's too bad," Addison says with mock empathy, "what did she do wrong?" There's sarcasm in her tone that would be unmistakable to anybody except for Derek.

Oblivious to the sarcasm, he shakes his head, "I don't know. She won't speak to me."

"I guess it's time just to move on then."

"You say it like it's easy to just drop your life and go. Like nothing ever mattered," Derek points out, looking up at her.

Addison looks back, her gaze unwavering, "You've done it once, Derek. I'm sure that you'll be able to do it again."

Izzie paces back and forth in the on-call room, waiting for George. Her heart has skipped a beat at least four times in the past two minutes and she doesn't know what to expect. She said that she would stay away from him but she knows that she has some sort of feelings for him too.

The door swings wide open and she doesn't notice when he doesn't lock it.

"George, I was starting to wonder if you-" she's cut off before she can even finish speaking.

"You're going to listen to me. You're not going to say anything, you're not going to respond and you're going to deal with what I have to tell you," he doesn't bother to ask if she understands before continuing because he knows that she won't, "I married Callie. Maybe I married her at a bad time but I still married her. And then I slept with you. The difference between me marrying Callie and me sleeping with you is alcohol. I was drunk, Izzie. We were drunk. Whatever it is that you think you feel for me, I can't feel it back and I won't, because I'm married. I'm not going to divorce Callie because I made a mistake. I'm going to tell her the truth and I'm going to fight like hell to make it right and you? You're going to stay out of my way while I do it."

Izzie opens her mouth but George holds up his hand and she closes it again, an indignant expression painted across her face.

"If you're my friend, if you're _really_ my friend, you'll support me on this. You'll stay out of the way until she can trust me again and you'll let me put my marriage back together."

It takes a few moments for Izzie to show any sign of reaction and George nearly walks out but she finally speaks , "I'm your friend," she says, voice wavering, "and I will support you."

"Thank you," George says quietly and leaves Izzie standing alone in the call room wondering what the future really holds for their friendship.

Alex orders another beer and glances around Joe's. It's almost empty tonight and he knows that all the smart people are at home sleeping after making it through the first week of dealing with a bunch of moron interns.

_Fuck that_, he thinks, _the smart people are drinking so they can deal with them for the rest of the year._

The bell over the door signifies another arrival and he sees Cristina walk inside with purpose and head straight for the opposite end of the bar.

"I don't have cooties, Yang," Alex calls out to her. Normally he wouldn't bother reaching out but anybody can see there's something going on with her and Burke. Newlyweds don't act like wounded animals around each other. Not that he cares but he's tired of listening to Meredith whining about it and there's nobody else that he can screw right now so maybe if he fixes thing than he can get his fuckbuddy back.

"Last I heard, you had syphilis," she mutters, joining him against her better judgment.

"Thanks to the miracle of modern medicine it's been cured," he sneers and lifts his beer to his lips.

Cristina orders a vodka tonic and picks up a peanut in the meantime. She has nothing to say to Alex and she's not in the mood for small talk.

"Shouldn't you be at home blowing Burke or something?" Alex asks bluntly.

"Mind your own business," Cristina groans, glancing in Joe's direction to see how her drink is coming along.

"I'm just saying, the last I heard married people are all over each other and stuff and you two aren't," he points out, "and you're quiet. Nobody has ever been able to shut your ass up before, what gives now?"

"I don't know why you think I'm going to tell you."

"Well, you're not telling Meredith."

She shoots him a glance of curiosity. Obviously she's missing something because Meredith is confiding in _him_, "Because there's nothing to tell."

"Whatever," Alex shrugs, "it's not like I give a damn."

Cristina takes her drink from Joe before he can even put it on the bar in front of her, "Why the hell would Meredith tell you anything anyway?" she asks before taking a drink.

"Show me yours and I'll show you mine," he offers.

"Does everything have to be sex with you?"

"Not my fault that it's not with you," Alex retorts.

Cristina stirs her drink idly, staring intently at it as if it's somehow going to help her stop thinking, as if it will fix everything.

"Do I really strike you as the type of guy who's going to tell everybody about your thing?" Alex asks, "Look, the only thing I care about is Meredith not caring about your shit. That's it."

"Tell me why you care about Meredith," Cristina says, the words almost foreign in her mouth. The concept of Alex caring about anything about himself outside of the isolated incident with Izzie is just wrong.

"She has issues with Shepherd and I have issues with chicks, it works," Alex explains as succinctly as he can, "it's nothing."

"Burke wants a wife," she mumbles in response.

"I don't know if you've heard but when you marry somebody, you become their wife. It's kind of a new thing," Alex answers sarcastically, "so he's already got one."

"I am not a wife. I'm not a child rearing, house cleaning, meal cooking, person. I'm a surgeon."

"Did he tell you that you couldn't be a surgeon anymore?"

"No."

"Then I fail to see the problem," Alex pauses to wave Joe down for another drink. "Look, I honestly don't care what your deal is because it sounds pointless. You're supposed to get cold feet before the wedding but either way, I don't want to talk about it. So will you just talk to Mer?"

Cristina traces her finger along the condensation on her glass. Meredith isn't the person she wants to talk to right now but she has no idea what to say to the person she does want to talk to, "Since when have you two been…" she makes a face. The idea of the two of them is just disgusting to her.

"At the reception," he smirks.

"Did you even bother getting a room?"

"Nope."

"Nice," Cristina mutters, lifting her drink to her lips once more. It's going to take a lot more than one drink to help her get over the fact that for the first time in her life she's jealous of Alex Karev.

Burke stands in front of the board, examining his busy schedule for the next day. He picks up a marker and writes Cristina's name in on all five procedures. It's a long day but he knows that she can handle it.

It's the only way he can be close to the woman he loves these days.

There are no words to apologize for the things that he said. He tries to process exactly what was going through his mind at the particular moment that he said those things to her and the only thing that he can come up with is that he was trying to save her from herself. As if she wasn't an adult, as if she didn't understand what she was doing.

It took her eight days to say yes; she knew exactly what she was getting into.

More than that, he loves her for being her. The panic in his own head took over and he'll never be able to find a way to explain that to her. It will never be enough of an apology. Despite their shared love of their career, he wants to go back to Hawaii and to the blissful ignorance that they shared.

"Preston," Addison greets from behind him, "you're here late. You're not on call this evening are you?"

A faint smile turns up the corner of his lips, "No, I'm not. I'm simply making sure that things are in order."

"It looks as if they are," she pauses for a moment, "you should go home. You can't enjoy being a newlywed standing in front of this board."

The faint smile fades from Burke's face and he clears his throat. He's a gentleman and he'll never tell her the full story, but she is a friend so he divulges a little, "That's not exactly going according to plan."

"I've heard as much. Word travels faster when you're Chief," Addison admits. "I know there was an issue. I was there. But whatever it was, Preston, it can be fixed. I can attest to that along with a handful of scrub nurses. 'I give you me'? No man says things like that without meaning it."

"It's hard to hear something like that when the precursor is something akin to 'I thought that you may be this one day'," he answers, "I deserve her anger. I simply don't know how to make up for it."

Addison lays a hand on her friend's arm, "I don't know Yang like you do," I say, "but I know that somewhere deep down that she has a second x chromosome and all she needs to hear is those vows. _Really _hear them. You two love each other. Don't let go of her."

"I almost let go of her once," Burke says gently, "I'd be a fool to do it again."

George's words replay in Callie's mind over and over again. She's tried to make it stop, tried to wrap her mind around the concept so somewhere in her brain a neuron will fire and she'll be able to form some sort of words in response to George's but she's getting nowhere.

"Callie," George says her name almost hesitantly. She looks like she's going to snap any second and he knows that he deserves it, "Callie, say something."

There's still no response.

"I was drunk," he repeats, "it wasn't intentional and I told Izzie that I was going to fix this. That she needed to stay away. I couldn't- I love you. I don't want to lose you."

The last six words finally penetrate the barrier that his admission had created and something in her snaps, "You don't want," she echoes.

Only then does George realize that wasn't exactly the best choice of words.

"You don't want," Callie repeats, "you don't want it and so it shouldn't happen, right George? Just like you didn't want this relationship and then you did and then you didn't again? You didn't want to commit and then you did and then you wanted to go to Vegas and get married and so we did and then you wanted to get drunk one night with your best friend and whore it up with her and now you don't want this to end?"

Her voice rises with each phrase until she's yelling and then just as suddenly she falls quiet, "Get out. Get out now and don't you ever come back."

"Callie," George starts, his voice trembling slightly, "I said-"

"Your sorry isn't good enough," Callie says with a shake of her head, her brown eyes narrowed, "get out."

George doesn't move and despite an overwhelming urge to leave herself, Callie picks up the phone and dials the front desk, "Yes, may I have security please? I have an unwanted guest in my suite that refuses to leave."

This gets George's attention and he suddenly stands, gathering his jacket and fumbling about, "Callie, this is ridiculous," he argues, stopping to try to work his shoes on, "I'm not some-"

"They're on their way up George. These elevators aren't slow. If you don't want to go to jail, I recommend shutting up and getting the hell out."

Callie watches with her arms crossed as George face plants just outside of the door to the suite and though she wants to laugh at him, she doesn't.

At least she's not suppressing an urge to ask him if he's okay.

"This whole hospital has gone to hell," Derek states plainly, sitting on the edge of Addison's desk.

"You're sitting on my budget," Addison replies, not looking up from her laptop, "and I take that statement very personally."

"No, I don't mean you. I mean personally it's going to hell. Professionally it's great. Keep up the good work, _Chief_," Derek adds emphasis to the word and if Addison didn't know him, she'd think it was sarcasm and not jealousy.

"Still regretting giving up this position, are you?"

"Yeah," he admits, "maybe a little. But I've seen the inside of an OR today."

"It's a good thing when I don't see the inside of an OR. It means there are no premature infants in need of life saving surgery," Addison points out.

"Admit it," Derek prods, "you miss spending countless hours in the OR."

Addison looks up at him finally, pulling her red rimmed reading glasses from her face. The pointed expression on her face fades and a more unreadable one replaces it, "Richard did it. He managed to get into the OR and run this department. I will too. I'm still new at this. I'm still trying to figure everything out and with losing Mark and trying to-"

"What? It's not possible."

"Richard was in the OR all the time," Addison argues.

"No, not that. Losing Mark. He's not actually leaving is he?" Derek asks, afraid that it's too good to be true.

"Yeah," she answers, shuffling through a pile of papers on her desk. She finally finds what she's looking for and pushes it in Derek's direction, "he's breaking contract and paying a huge tail but I'm sure he doesn't care. He's going to LA."

"I don't believe it," he says with a shake of his head, "this is the best news I've heard all week."

"He used to be your best friend," she says, snatching the resignation letter back from Derek's hands, "you should at least tell him goodbye."

"I have no desire to."

"Derek, I get that you didn't forgive me and that you didn't want to and all of that," Addison starts, "but he's been your friend forever. Do you really want to lose that?"

"He never once apologized," Derek rebukes in a voice only a little less than sanctimonious, "he never stepped up to admit that he had done something wrong. He never stopped trying to get in the way when we attempted to fix things. I don't care how long we've been friends. He's made no attempt at fixing this and there's no need for me to try."

Addison looks back up at Derek intently, "You realize that you never apologized to me for the thing with Meredith? That you never once said 'sorry' about leaving a pair of panties in your pocket or humiliating me the way that you did?"

Derek opens his mouth to argue but he's cut off before he can get two words out.

"I have work to do, Derek," she says with finality and doesn't bother watching as he leaves. There are some moments, sparse as they may be, where she thinks that she misses him. Moments where she thinks that if Meredith Grey had never gotten in the way that the change of pace that Seattle brought about would have fixed everything.

Then there are moments that Addison remembers no matter what, she was still married to Derek Shepherd and that Derek would always be Derek, no matter what city he lived in.

"Who is she?" Meredith asks, eyeing the quirky little brunette across the cafeteria.

"What?" Cristina glances up from her plate, "Who?"

"That girl. The one that stalks me and looks around corners but runs in the opposite direction if I ever start to walk towards her. Who the hell is that?"

"Some intern I gave up to George. Three," Cristina shrugs and drops her fork onto the tray.

"She's not just some intern," George says defensively, "her name is Lexie-" he takes the opportunity to shove a large bite of his sandwich into his mouth to muffle her last name.

It works.

"Well, Lexie needs to stop stalking me. I don't care what she's heard and if it's true but I don't need a creepy creepy stalker right now. I have enough problems."

"I thought you dumped your problem? You should be problem free," Cristina mocks, "unless you've got a problem down there from sleeping with the new problem."

"Shut up."

George's brow furrows, "Who are you sleeping with now?"

"Now? What kind of a question is that? You act like I'm sleeping with somebody new every week," Meredith says defensively, "I'll have you know that Derek and I are-"

"I didn't say that and you are being overly defensive. You picked up guys in bars, it's not like you can really sink any lower."

"She's sleeping with Alex," Izzie announces unceremoniously as she drops her tray at the table, "she has sunk lower. Much lower."

Meredith looks at Izzie wide eyed, "You were supposed to keep your mouth shut!" 

"Yeah and so were you," Izzie shoots back at her with venom dripping from each word, "that didn't stop Callie from kicking me off her service and saying she was going to do everything she could to keep me from ever seeing the inside of an OR again." 

"Actually," George tries to interrupt but is quickly cut off.

"I didn't tell her! And you had no business bringing up the fact that I'm sleeping with Alex!" 

"I already knew," Cristina interjects in an amused tone, "it is low. Even for you, Mer." The new spat is at least distraction from her own issues for a minute.

"You knew and you didn't tell me?" Izzie asks.

"Since when do I tell you anything?"

"But it's Alex. That's good gossip. You don't keep that quiet."

"Apparently since Meredith told Callie you slept with George," Cristina smirks, picking up her fork to stab a piece of her salad.

"Shut up, go home and put your apron on for Burke, I'm tired of your moping." Mer hisses at Cristina, "and Izzie, I did not tell Callie. Why the hell would I tell Callie?"

"Guys!" George snaps, "I told Callie."

Izzie's face goes from bright red with anger to sheet white in a matter of seconds, "Oh. Sorry."

Meredith shoots an 'I told you so glance' at Izzie, oblivious to Cristina's expression.

"And I can't believe that you're sleeping with Alex," George adds then falls silent, making note of the look on Cristina's face.

"What?"

Izzie kind of nods at Cristina, "I think you broke her."

Cristina slides her gaze to Izzie for only a second and then back at Meredith before standing up, "Unbelievable."

"What?" Meredith asks, glancing around, "what did I say?"

"I don't know. I heard something about an apron and shutting up," Izzie quips before taking a drink of her soda, "that could have something to do with it."

"Yeah, that was kind of wrong, Mer," George adds.

Meredith looks at George in disbelief, "You're going to tell me that something is wrong? You who cheated on your wife with Izzie is going to tell me that I've done something wrong like you're some pinnacle of moral whatever?"

George falls quiet and starts pushing mashed potatoes around some sort of over processed meat product, muttering to himself.

Silence falls over the three of them and Meredith looks back in the direction of the brunette sitting with the other interns.

Now she has a creepy, creepy stalker and no person to complain about it to.

Cristina shifts under Burke's gaze and tries to pay attention to the surgery. Yesterday and the day before was just the stupid puppy dog eyed thing going on, the attempt at a silent apology for being himself and an even more pathetic attempt at getting her to talk.

Today she was convinced that he was picturing her naked.

"Dr. Yang," he announces in that authoritative tone of his that she loathes and loves all at the same time.

"Dr. Burke," she responds, making it clear through her tone that she's annoyed with his little game today.

"You'll be performing the anastomoses on this patient, I'll assist."

_You are completely invisible_, she thinks, _but I'm not stupid_.

"Yes, sir," she answers turning to Bokhee for the instruments. She carefully follows his instruction, using the sutures that she's both looked up in the books on her own and learned from him. His hand nears hers but never touches, more from caution than restraint.

His eyes turn into embers as he watches her, guides her in a low voice when she needs him (which isn't much) and then watches as she asks for antegrade flow to assess her work. Burke knows that in a few short years she'll be a brilliant surgeon, world renowned.

People will come to Seattle Grace for her care.

When she's satisfied with her work, he gently releases the heart and begins the delicate work of decannulating the heart and then lets her place the pericardial patch. They close and too soon, his time with her is over again.

After he drops his facemask into the trash, he dips his hands beneath the faucet, "This isn't exactly what I pictured our marriage to be," he admits in a low voice, "seeing you only at work. Giving surgeries as the only way to give of myself. This isn't what I want, Cristina."

"I told you that I'm a surgeon, not a wife," Cristina answers coolly, scrubbing at her own hands. She feels like she can't get out of the room soon enough and that she wants to stay all at the same time.

"My girlfriend was a surgeon too. And yet she came home at night, at least most of the time." Burke answers, keeping his voice low, "I fell in love with that woman. That's the woman I want to spend the rest of my life with. Nobody else."

Cristina grabs a couple of towels to dry her hands and turns her back to drop them into the trash. She doesn't know what to say to him because she doesn't know how to feel about any of it. There's logic and then there's this stupid emotional crap that she never paid attention to before him and it's playing a tug of war in her head and she can't seem to shut it up for two seconds.

"Cristina," his voice is soft and sad. She can't turn around and look at his face because she knows that she'll break more easily than she wants to.

Burke repeats her name again and when he sees her motionless before him, he decides to resort to more effective tactics. His grip is firm on her shoulders when he turns her and there's a small sound that leaves her mouth, the first syllable of his name or so he thinks, before he devours it. She fights him for only a moment and gives into the kiss, returning it with the same fervor.

There's a curious housekeeper mopping the area around the OR table and a scrub tech bearing witness to the entire scene but it doesn't stop him from pulling her body firmly against his. Every part of him aches for her, needs to feel her curled against him while they sleep or writhing beneath him as they make love. Things aren't right without her and he needs her to know that.

He wants to know that she feels that way too.

Another sound leaves her mouth this time and now he can tell it's his name, recognizes the tone of her voice. It would be so easy to give into what she wants, what they both want, take her into his office or a call room and let desire take over but he has a bigger plan.

Burke pulls his lips from hers, the heated kiss leaving hers nearly swollen, and he brushes a soft kiss against her forehead, "Come home tonight," he murmurs and leaves her standing dumbfounded in the scrub room.

"So you're actually doing this?" Addison asks, looking at the emptied office, "You're going to leave because I was being a paper pushing, bureaucratic bitch?"

The words still sting.

"Yes," Mark answers coldly and then he stops, "no. Yes and no."

"Mark," she murmurs, laying her hand on his arm. They may have never worked out but she still cares about him. There's a big place in her heart reserved for the man in front of her, even if he had his own issues.

"Addison, stop," he says, pulling his arm away, "I came to Seattle because of you. I came to Seattle for you. We didn't work out and now there's no reason for me to stay. It's about more than this Chief thing or the budget thing. I don't belong here. Seattle is not home for me."

"Then why not go home to New York? Re-open your practice?"

A boyish grin spreads across his beautiful face, "I have a reputation in New York."

"And you have a clean slate in Los Angeles," Addison says with a shake of her head. "You'll never change."

"I don't have a reason to right now," he shrugs, dropping the last stack of articles into his box.

"Mark?"

"Yeah, Addie?" he asks, glancing up.

It's the same hopes that she has for herself but she shares them for him too. She knows that maybe one day he really can be a good husband and a good father. Just not for her, "I hope you find your reason to change."

"D-doctor Yang?" A small voice stammers her name from behind and she doesn't have to turn around to know it's an intern.

Cristina really does enjoy them all being terrified of her.

"Can't you see I'm busy?" She asks, browsing a website that's clearly not work related.

"I-I can and I apologize but I know that you know Dr. Grey and I just had a couple of questions that I wanted to ask you, if I could," the voice says again and if Cristina didn't know any better, she would assume that it was a starving orphan behind her with a voice that small.

She turns to face the voice with narrowed eyes and sees Meredith's creepy creepy stalker standing behind her, "Three," Cristina says flatly.

"Lexie," the woman corrects but then quickly adds, "but you can call me three if you want. That was my nickname. Growing up. Three."

"Shut up," Cristina says, holding her hand up, "what do you want?"

"Dr. Grey, Meredith…she's your friend isn't she?" Lexie asks, "I've seen you with her a lot."

"Depends on what day of the week it is."

"Well, I just…I wanted to know because I'm kind of…related to her. I'm…you see, our dad is the same dad," Lexie stammers slightly.

"So you're what the rest of the world refers to as sisters," the sarcasm of the statement temporarily cancels out the realization and then Cristina's eyes widen almost imperceptibly, "you're Meredith's sister," Cristina repeats.

"Ye-yeah. And she seems really nice but I feel like every time I try to talk to her that she doesn't want to talk to me. There's this look on her face."

"That's her normal face. Talk to her anyway," Cristina shrugs, reaching to pick up a People magazine, "she loves family."

A smile of relief spreads over Lexie's face, "Really? That's great. That's good. Thank you. Thanks, Dr. Yang."

"No problem," Cristina says through a forced smile, watching as Lexie runs off and then she shakes her head, "sucker."

"Not tonight," Meredith says, feeling Alex's eyes on her as she changes out of her scrubs.

"Yes tonight," Alex scoffs, "what kind of arrangement is this if you're giving me the 'I have a headache' crap?"

"It's an arrangement where I have other issues going on right now and I don't want to go home and sleep with you. That's not going to fix anything."

"It will feel good," his tone is self-assured and he knows that Meredith agrees. She agreed three times last night.

"It's not going to solve anything."

"Fuck solving anything,"

Meredith looks at him in disbelief, "Cristina is mad at me again, George and Izzie aren't speaking because of George and Callie and now you're breathing down my back to get laid when all I really want to do is…I don't know what I want to do. But I know that I don't want to have sex with you tonight!"

Lexie stood frozen in the doorway of the resident's locker room, her eyes wide, "Maybe this isn't a good time."

"And I have a creepy creepy stalker!" Meredith snaps, "What the hell do you want?"

"I'm…I just wanted to come say hi. Because I'm your sister. And Dr. Yang, she said that you really love family and that you'd want to talk to me and so...here I am. To talk," Lexie rambles on, "but you look like you're already talking so I'm just going to-"

"Cristina told you I loved family?" Meredith questions before Lexie can make her escape.

Alex snorts, "Yang may be a pain in the ass but she's got a twisted sense of humor."

Meredith shoots an angry glance in Alex's direction before looking back to Lexie, "I don't do family. At all. So whatever Dr. Yang told you, just ignore it. And by the way, Dr. Yang loves interns. And hugs."

"Lame," Alex remarks.

"Yeah, that was kind of obvious," Lexie says quietly.

Meredith looks between the two of them with disgust before grabbing her bag and pushing past Lexie to make her quick exit.

"So I'm going to guess that she's not a big family person, huh?" Lexie asks quietly.

"You're pretty smart for an intern," Alex says, giving her the once over. "What's your name again?"

"Lexie. Well, Alexandra but I tell everybody to call me Lexie," she says, eyeing the guy in front of her, "what's yours?"

Alex walks casually over to the door and holds it open for her, "That's for me to know and you to find out."

"You're still here?" Derek asks from the doorway of her office, "Have you moved at all?"

Addison pulls her hand away from her face, her cheek red from the countless hours of pressure, "I'm still here. And I've moved. Once, I think."

"It's time for you to move for the night," Derek answers, walking over to closer her laptop lid despite her best efforts to shield it, "whatever is here, it's not life or death and it will be here tomorrow. I know you and I know you're trying to be perfect in the first month of being Chief but it's not necessary, Addison. Sleep. Sleep is necessary."

The sound of her empty stomach interjects itself into the conversation.

"And food," he adds with a smug grin, "come on. I'll get you dinner that doesn't come out of a can or the hospital cafeteria."

"You're going to get dinner?" Addison asks suspiciously, "Are you going to poison it?"

Derek laughs slightly and puts an arm around her waist to usher her out of the office, "No. Just think of it as an apology for panties and absenteeism in New York."

"So you don't have to say the words."

"I didn't say that I wasn't going to say the words," Derek says quietly, "but I figure if I'm going to swallow my pride that it may go down better with some Mediterranean cuisine from that little place on Third Street that you like so well?"

More intrigued about the possibility of an apology than dinner, Addison agrees, "I think it would probably go down much easier."

"Good."

There are remnants of a candle light dinner for two on the table when she gets home and he's doing dishes with a pathetic look on his face. She stands by the door for a moment, taking it all in before she drops her bag and walks over to the table to pick up his plate and silverware to put it next to the sink.

"There's some dinner if you're hungry," Burke says casually, taking the dishes from her.

"I'm not hungry," her voice is uncharacteristically soft.

"Okay."

Cristina lingers next to him at the kitchen counter. She has no words to say but she knows that she doesn't want to spend another night in an on-call room (the hospital is dead) and Meredith's house is not an option (she should be bonding with her sister right about now) so this is the next best thing. Her fingers trace against the top of the granite counter until his hand moves over hers. It's unusually warm from the heat of the water and she looks up at him seconds before their lips make contact.

_This_ is why she came home.

Burke's arms wrap around her waist as her fingers curl around his neck and she kisses him voraciously. Her free hand is already working one handed at the buttons of his shirt and she's simultaneously trying to drag him backwards towards the bedroom but he's not moving. His firm grip on her hips result instead on her lower back meeting the edge of the counter, a bruise in the making.

Her fingers slide down over his bared chest and stomach to the bulge in his pants and she rubs firmly against it, lets him buck against her hand. When he groans her name she decides to quit torturing him and unbutton his pants and dip her hand inside, granting him skin on skin contact.

He drags his lips over her neck and murmurs a soft 'I love you' against her ear and she doesn't want to hear it right now. Right now, Cristina wants angry sex, merciless fucking until they're both so drained and exhausting that speaking the truth isn't considered a heart to heart, it's considered a moment of weakness.

Cristina digs her nails into his shoulder and he gets the message loud and clear and backs her harder into the counter, reaches down to grab one of her legs and wrap it around his hip, grinding against her roughly. He tears off her shirt and sends it sailing somewhere, her bra following in the same direction. He moves his mouth over her breast, laves her nipple with his tongue, sucks and bites until she cries out and tries to push him away.

Burke makes quick work of her pants and panties, pausing in between layers to remove his own clothing. He kicks away his pants and his fingers find her folds, rubbing her clit and partially pushing inside her, leaving her breathlessly begging for more. He lifts her to sit on the counter and pulls her legs apart before dropping to his knees. His dark eyes move over her body, taking in the beauty that is Cristina; the way ebony curls tickle her porcelain shoulders, the staggered breath that causes her pert breast to rise and fall erratically. To him, she'll be anything less than perfect. Slowly, he kisses up the inside of her knee, flickers his tongue out against the soft flesh of her inner thigh until finally, _finally_, his lips and tongue are right where she wants them.

Her fingers curl into his hair and she holds him against her as he attacks her clit with is tongue, swirls around the sensitive flesh. His fingers find a rhythm that matches the gyrations of her hips and she grows wetter by the second. His tongue sweeps down to taste her and then back up to her clit once more, this time nipping gently at it and closing his lips around her until she's crying out and jerking hysterically. Just as her walls begin to tighten, he eases a third finger into her to bring her to orgasm.

Strength leaves her body as he continues to move through her orgasm, not letting up while she's begging for him to stop. She drops from her palms to her elbows, her body trembling in his grasp. Her chest heaves and she sees him watching the heavy rise and fall of her breasts with embers for eyes. She shudders one last time and feels the full weight of his body press against hers as she lazily opens her eyes. Their gazes meet and he lifts her from the counter and presses her back against the cold refrigerator instead, the head of his impressive length threatening entrance.

Burke takes her with one hard stroke, burying himself as deep as her body will let him and maybe a little bit more. A few more hard thrusts and he's filling her to the hilt and holding on for dear life. Cristina kisses his neck between cries and moves her lips over his ear to breathlessly whisper, "I love you too."

Going to Joe's wasn't exactly Meredith's first choice.

Somehow, in the scheme of things, Meredith realizes that she's gained a support system in a way. She has her person, she had Derek, and she had her friends when they weren't all obsessed with sleeping with married men or avoiding the wife they cheated on. Everything is different right now and it's definitely not in a good way.

No, going to Joe's was not her first choice tonight but when she couldn't find Cristina and Izzie was obsessing over George, and Derek…

Well, Derek wasn't even an option anymore.

The sound of giggling in the corner of the room draws Meredith's attention up from her glass of tequila and she sees Alex clearly hitting on a drunken Lexie. Her eyes narrow and she tosses back the rest of her drink before walking towards the pair.

"What the hell are you doing?" her voice slurs more than she wants it to, "That's my sister."

"You weren't claiming her twenty minutes ago," Alex says, "or me."

"Because we're not a thing, Alex. You just wanted to get laid."

"Yeah, and I still do, so-"

"Whoa, whoa, wait- I know that you're…I don't…" Lexie looks helplessly at Meredith, "I wasn't trying to,"

"Please, are you going to tell me that you had absolutely no clue what he was doing?" Meredith questions angrily.

"Well, no. I mean, maybe. But I wouldn't have slept with him,"

"Then you can pay your own tab," Alex snorts, "I'm getting out of here."

"You're not going anywhere!" Meredith snaps at him and grabs onto his arm, "I'm not done talking to you."

Alex pulls his arm away from her hand and straightens his jacket, "We're not a thing. I just wanted to get laid."

Meredith watches as he walks away and turns back to her supposed sister, "You aren't allowed to sleep with him, I don't care what you say."

"Why? It's not like you're a thing," Lexie shoots back at her, "and like I said, I wouldn't have done it. You obviously care about him."

"Alex? I don't care about Alex?"

"Really? Because you were pretty pissed about him trying to sleep with me."

"Look, I don't know what you're trying to do or why you're here but I don't care. Just…you are not my sister and I am not the person you're looking for. He is not my boyfriend and I don't want one but I swear to God if you sleep with Alex, you'll wish that you were wherever you came from."

"Here," Lexie interjects, "I came from here. Seattle. Well, kind of. See, I was from Boston. I moved back to Seattle. Because I was born here. But I lived in Boston. Anyway, I was doing a residency at Mass Gen and-"

"I don't care," Meredith snaps, not willing or wanting to hear her side of the story, "There are at least four other surgical residencies in Seattle."

"And this one is the best and I deserve a chance at being the best," she argues with Meredith, "and I'm your sister. How can you just walk out on family?"

"How?" Meredith asks angrily, "Why don't you ask your father? I'm sure he can give you lessons."

Lexie looks stunned and Meredith takes the opportunity to walk away from her. She has absolutely nothing to say to the girl who stole her father and her life. She probably doesn't even know the first thing about what it was like to grow up a true Grey, a Grey who doesn't do feelings and happy shit.

Other than genetics, they have absolutely nothing in common.

Derek walks alongside Addison in silence, trying to digest the evening he's had. He glances over at Addison who looks just as pensive as he feels and he chuckles, "We're both deep in thought or so it seems."

"Yeah," Addison says distantly, "I just guess that sometimes I miss this."

"This?"

"Us," she clarifies, "we were good together. When we were actually together."

Derek nods gently, "We were good when I wasn't absent."

"You don't have to apologize again. We're past that."

He stops midstride and takes hold of her hand, "What else are we past, Addison?"

The sincerity in his voice is obvious and Addison is left speechless. She'd thought about it before, what she would do if she had another chance with Derek, if they would actually be able to pull it off. Despite the words they'd shared over and over, the arguments she had, there was a large part of her that would always love Derek no matter what.

"I'm not asking for everything to change right this moment," he assures her, "I just want to know if there's anything left. If I have a chance to make it up to you. To _really_ make it up to you," Derek reaches out and brushes a strand of garnet hair from her face, "What would you say if I said I wanted to try again? No distractions."

"I guess I would say that we just have to take it one day at a time and see where it goes," she finally says.

"One day at a time," he echoes, "I think I can do that."

Addison smiles faintly and continues walking, her hand in his, "I think I can too."

"I'm not cuddling," Cristina mumbles tiredly, "I'm just not moving because four is a lot. On top of the other," she falls silent trying to count the number of times he's produced mind shattering orgasms.

"I believe there were eight," he says in a low voice against her ear, voice dripping with suggestion and a faint hint of pride in his capabilities.

"Those," she agrees in a mumble, "I'm not moving because of those."

Burke chuckles softly and lifts her fingers to his lips, "Of course." His arm drapes around Cristina and he pulls her even closer, "I love you," he murmurs for the hundredth time this evening, "I know that there were things before the wedding and that the things I said-"

Cristina shakes her head, "I don't want to talk about it."

"Don't talk," he says then, "just listen. I just want you to know that I love _you_. Not some woman that cooks and cleans. Not a wife. I want Cristina."

She looks over her shoulder at him and then shifts so she's facing him instead, "Fine."

"Okay," he responds idly, tracing his finger along her jawbone.

"You realize that I'm going to make you pay for that little stunt for the rest of your life, right?" she asks, "You're definitely not getting off that easily."

Burke laughs softly, dropping a kiss against her shoulder and lowers his voice again, "I'm more than willing to put in the time."

Cristina mock groans and stretches out slowly beside him. Her breasts brush against his chest, "I have a headache."

"Then allow me to cure it," he murmurs suggestively, his body shifting completely over hers.

"Again?" She asks, her hands running up the backs of his toned arms. The tone of her voice is purely annoyed but the way she presses her hips into his and wraps her legs around him contradicts that tone.

Though she may find it to be a personality flaw tomorrow, she'll never say no to him.

Meredith pushes open the door of the on call room and finds Alex sleeping, his arm hanging off the bed and knuckle scraping the floor beneath him. She locks the door and then turns to face him again, waiting a few minutes to gather her thoughts before kicking his hand, "Wake up."

Alex jumps at the sudden intrusion and sits up, wiping his chin, "What the hell?"

"You were going to sleep with her," Meredith says bitterly.

"So? It's not like it matters to you." He answers, reaching for his scrub top. The top leaves his hands and Meredith tosses it aside. He grins smugly and looks up at her, "You're jealous."

"I'm not jealous."

"You're jealous otherwise you wouldn't be making a thing out of it."

"It's not like this is a relationship," Meredith retorts, untying her scrubs, "it's a thing."

"Should it be an exclusive thing?" Alex questions and he's surprised by his own question but for Meredith he's willing to do it. She's just as messed up as he is. This was inevitable.

"Do I look like I want syphilis?"

Alex pulls her down to the bed and crushes his lips to hers, "Fine. Then it's an exclusive thing."

"No sleeping with Lexie."

"Exclusive means that I'm only sleeping with you, dumbass."

Meredith pushes him back onto the bed and crawls over to him, "You're talking way too much."

Alex flips her over and pins her wrists to the bed, "You started it," he says before roughly kissing her. It's a thing but it's still not a thing and it's something that both of them can live with.

"Are you sleeping in the cafeteria?" Meredith balks, sliding her tray onto the cafeteria table, "You do realize that we have rooms with beds and pillows here, right?"

Cristina buries her face in her arms, "I can't go near a bed, he'll know. He has ways."

Meredith's brow furrows, "Who are you talking about?"

"Burke," she mumbles into her arms, "he's all newlywed on me."

"That's way too much information," Izzie says, plopping down across from Meredith, "I didn't need to know that."

"Then go sit somewhere else," Cristina mutters, "and shut up and let me sleep."

Meredith smirks, "Not getting any sleep either?"

"Because that's such a hard life," Izzie says, rolling her eyes.

Cristina shares a look with Meredith before burying her face in her arms once more. There's no need to discuss what happened with Burke because clearly it's better and that's all that really matters on the subject, "So how's the sister?"

"You mean my creepy creepy stalker?" Meredith asks, "She's a creepy creepy stalker and I'm not interested in having a sister. By the way, your little joke was totally unacceptable."

"It was good."

"It was wrong."

Alex sits at the table and flashes a dirty look at Meredith before shoving a fry into his mouth. Izzie catches it and scoffs, "You two are disgusting. I can't believe you'd actually sleep with him."

"Shut up," Alex smirks at Izzie, "you know it's good. You're jealous."

"It's still disgusting. And wrong."

Meredith shrugs, "Then we'll be disgusting and wrong."

"Slept with any married men lately?" Cristina adds, lifting her head.

"That joke is off limits," George announces, taking his seat at the table. "Did you know that when you file for divorce and have absolutely nothing it still costs thousands of dollars to get out of it?"

"Told you that you shouldn't have married her," Izzie says pointedly.

George casts a sideways glance at Izzie and then looks at Cristina, "So you're good with Dr. Burke now. That's good, right?"

"How do you know I'm good with Burke?" Cristina asks, lifting her head.

"Because he's in a better mood," George shrugs, "I'm his guy, remember?"

Cristina rolls her eyes and lays her head back down for what she hopes is the last time, "I would have been better off trying to sleep in the on call room."

Meredith smiles and wrinkles her nose, "That's what you get for telling Lexie I wanted a sister."

"You should have been there she told Lexie you wanted hugs," Alex chimes in, "dude, it was so obvious."

"She wouldn't have tried it. The interns are stupid but they're not that stupid," Cristina groans as she sits up, finally giving up on getting sleep.

"Dude, you look rough. Amateur."

Meredith kicks Alex underneath the table, "Leave her alone. She's still in the honeymoon phase or whatever. They're all in love."

"Or in a continuous state of having sex," Cristina mutters, "who thought there could be a thing as too much sex?"

"There isn't. You're just sick," Izzie snorts, "very, very sick."

"Or getting laid. Maybe you shouldn't have cut the LVAD wire," Cristina mocks and reaches to steal a fry from Meredith.

"I have work to do," Izzie announces ceremoniously and stands up.

"Oh, is there a new heart patient on the floor?" Cristina continues prodding, "try to pick one that's less critical this time. You may be getting laid in six months, give or take, depending on the procedure."

"Cristina," Meredith chides softly.

"What? I'm tired."

"Go sleep. I'll play interference with Dr. Burke," George offers, "besides, he's in surgery right now anyway."

Cristina ponders it for a couple moments only and then stands up, "Thank you. Seriously."

George waits until she's gone and then laughs, "He doesn't have any surgeries until this afternoon. He should be finishing up clinic just about now, actually."

Alex quirks a brow and looks over at George, "I'm impressed, O'Malley. You're not as much of a fetus as I thought you were."

"Thanks, I think."

"It's a good thing, George," Meredith assures him and then glances down when her pager goes off, "Oh, that's my craniotomy. I have to go deal with Derek. He's acting weird lately. Like he's completely okay with us being broken up."

"That's because he's back with Dr. Montgomery," George announces, "or at least that's what Callie said."

Meredith wants to care but she doesn't care at all because for all the changes that have happened in the past month, everything feels right.


End file.
